


Week 4: Phoenix / Firebird

by DramioneLDWS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 8,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26357551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneLDWS/pseuds/DramioneLDWS
Summary: Each chapter is an individual drabble written by a single participant.Please mind the tags/triggers at the top of each entry.NOTE: For this challenge, no entry was allowed to mention The Order of the Phoenix.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 147
Kudos: 58
Collections: Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing - Round 2





	1. Upon This Pyre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Upon This Pyre  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: Major Character Death
> 
> AUTHOR: [Frumpologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumpologist/pseuds/frumpologist)

Draco was surrounded. Strangers chanted his name to a beat that would haunt him through eternity.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

She was nowhere to be seen, but then she’d always had a knack for hiding. He wondered if she chanted with them. He wouldn’t blame her—he’d ruined everything.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

The binds on his wrists cut off circulation. The pyre was too tall for any hope of escape. He gritted his teeth, struggling against the ropes.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

A rich, smoky odor wafted through the crowded courtyard. He stole a deep breath, eyes flickering through the faces shouting at him. No sign of her still.

“Death. to. Malfoy.”

The Dark Lord approached, billowing black robes flowing though there was no breeze. Arms outstretched, a wicked smile contorted his snakelike face. He silenced the crowd with one hand gesture.

“My friends.” His voice was nothing more than a light caress. “It pains me to have one of our own standing trial today. Mister Malfoy chose to act against us—he would have us all slain in the name of that fool, Harry Potter.”

Jeers and hisses echoed around the courtyard. A rotted piece of fruit hit Draco square in the forehead. He cursed, struggling in his binds once more.

The Dark Lord settled the crowd. “My heart is heavy, my friends. Mister Malfoy was led astray and left us no choice but to serve him with the most severe punishment: death.”

They cheered at his death sentence.

“However, I am not a heartless wizard.” The Dark Lord faced him, lips twisted in a sinister grin. His scarlet eyes flashed with menacing glee. “I have a surprise for our former comrade! Bring her out, Dolohov!”

Blood drained from Draco’s face. Her screams resounded through the courtyard as she was dragged forward, unable to hold her footing. Her bare knees scraped against the cement ground as she tripped over her feet.

“Draco!”

Desperation flooded him. Grappling with the rope around his wrists, Draco twisted and turned, cursed and strained, trying to get to her. It was no use. He was stuck, eyes locked as Dolohov tied her to the pyre beside his.

“Hermione,” he whispered, agony lacing itself through every letter of her name. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“Don’t.” Tears fell from her eyes, breaking his heart in two. “I love you, Draco.”

His words stuck in his throat. Acrid smoke crawled towards them, fire kindling the straw and wood at their feet.

He had so much to say, so much to apologize for. “I—”

The flames kissed her feet.

Her screams wrenched through him.

The crowd erupted in chaotic cheers

He fought harder.

The ropes wouldn’t give.

He was forced to watch, forced to listen to the way her desperate voice begged for mercy.

Flames crawled up his body.

Draco turned his vengeful gaze on The Dark Lord, swearing a silent vow. 

He would die upon this pyre and rise like a phoenix to raze the world in her name.


	2. The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The Story  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Torigingerfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torigingerfox/pseuds/Torigingerfox)

“Still nothing?”

Hermione didn’t even look up from her desk, waving her husband away.

"Do you need--"

"Silence, Draco. I need silence."

 _Yes_ Hermione desperately needed silence—and an idea for her story. 

She should never have given in to Padma’s pleas.

Her friend, Witch Weekly’s editor-in-chief, had begged her to take part in Wizarding England's most popular writing competition.

 _"You're a best-selling author! Besides, it's anonymous. You could write without the burden of your last name"_

Hermione had always wanted to prove that her readers loved her novels, not her name.

So, there she was. 

Each week the magazine released a theme, and readers could vote the anonymous entries. There were weekly eliminations, until the final round, which would determine the winning author.

That week, though, Hermione had no ideas. A cosmic void had taken hold of her brain, preventing her from coming up with even a shred of plot. She had spent her days locked in her study, she had even tried yoga for inspiration!

All in vain.

Draco had made sure no one disturbed her, not even her agent, and cups of tea had appeared on her desk at regular intervals.

He definitely did not deserve that treatment, she had been horrible.

Hermione stopped him. "Wait! I'm sorry. I’m...struggling."

"Not used to not having your homework ready on time?” 

Hermione snorted, pretending to be offended. "My Boggart was McGonagall telling me I'd failed my exams, you can’t be surprised I’m panicking."

"What's the theme this week?"

"The Phoenix."

"Then why don't you just talk about the w-?"

Hermione stopped him. "Because it’s forbidden! I can’t use elements that make me recognisable. It's _anonymous_ , Draco."

"Love, you need a break. It’s bedtime and Scorp wants his mummy’s cuddles. Go, and if by the deadline you still have nothing, I promise to comfort you in every possible way.”

Hermione followed Draco’s advice and went to Scorpius’ room, where he was waiting in his bed, cuddling his stuffed dragon. She sat beside him and he promptly hugged her.

"Are you sad because you don't have a story, mummy? I’ll help."

Hermione smiled. "All right Scorp, help me. This week mummy must write about the Phoenix."

"The firebird that doesn’t die?"

"Yes, darling."

His eyes lit up. "Tell about a phoenix on your belly, that pecks you and catches fire but doesn't burn you..."

Hermione was listening to her son tell the weirdest, sweetest story when she suddenly had an idea.

"This!!" she cried. 

"What, mummy?" 

"I'm gonna tell _this_ story!"

"What story?"

"A mum without a story and her boy helping her!"

Hermione kissed him on the forehead and quickly left.

Draco, who had witnessed everything from the threshold, let her pass. 

On her way out Hermione heard Scorpius ask "Daddy, what story is Mummy writing? I don't understand."

"The most beautiful story in the world."

Hermione smiled, closing the door behind her. 

She only had thirty minutes to write and submit the most beautiful story in the world. 

No pressure.


	3. Surprise Performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Surprise Performance  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [persephone_stone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_stone/pseuds/persephone_stone)

“ _Now_ can you tell why we’re here, Pans?” Draco drawled, doing his best to look bored. 

She turned to him, grinning like the Cheshire cat in that weird muggle book. “You do _not_ want to miss this band. Trust me, Draco.”

The club was packed, wizards and witches jostling each other to get closer to the stage. Finally, the lights dimmed, sending up a wave of cheers from the crowd. A magically-amplified voice filled the room, sexy and swotty and so utterly familiar that a bolt of electricity sizzled down Draco’s spine.

“We are Phoenix Rising, and we are here to rock your world!”

Draco gaped at Pansy, who was practically cackling with glee. 

And then there she was. 

Hermione Granger. 

_Merlin’s balls,_ Draco thought, eyes trailing helplessly over her as she took her place in front of the microphone, an electric blue guitar looped over her shoulder. Two women took the stage behind her—one heading to the drums, the other to a set of keyboards. 

Draco was sure he knew who they were, but he was so laser-focused on Hermione, on her wildly curling hair and ruby red lips and fucking _tight_ leather pants, that he couldn’t be bothered to look twice at anyone else.

She leaned into the microphone. “Alright, Diagon?” she asked, voice playful, eyes scanning the crowd. 

He knew the moment she saw him. She jumped in surprise, but recovered quickly, a broad grin breaking out across her face. 

“It looks like we’re not the only phoenixes here tonight,” she said, holding his gaze. “If you’re like us, and you’ve built a new life from the ashes of your old one, then we want you to know that we see you. We _are_ you.”

Draco’s mouth was dry, his heart beating fast enough to bruise his ribs. He blinked, feeling light-headed. 

“Now let’s rock!”

Draco spent the next hour in a very uncomfortable state, torn between shock— _holy shit, that is **Granger** licking a microphone_—and arousal— _holy shit, that is Granger **licking a microphone**._

When their set ended, Hermione leapt off the stage and made a beeline toward him. He stood up straight, clearing his throat and adjusting the front of his trousers, bracing himself for either a verbal lashing or another slap to the face.

So he was surprised when instead she opened her arms, wrapping them around his shoulders and putting her red, red mouth next to his ear, whispering, “I’m so glad you came.”

He pulled back, searching her face, finding nothing but sincerity there.

Her arms were still around him. _Why were her arms still around him?_ She hated him...didn’t she?

“I meant what I said,” she murmured, voice husky from singing. “We’ve both changed. We’re not those scared, broken children anymore. That’s why I asked Pansy to bring you tonight.”

His eyebrows shot up, nearly to his hairline. “You _what?”_

She smiled, taking his hand. “Let me buy you a drink, Draco. We have a lot of catching up to do.”


	4. Scavenging with Scamander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Scavenging with Scamander  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 492  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [wish123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wish123/pseuds/wish123)

“Then I said that he was being a right head. He didn’t seem to understand what I was referring to though.” 

Hermione hiked alongside Newt Scamander through the forest. When she started in Magical Creatures, she was paired with him after she submitted her name for the department’s mentorship program. 

She attempted to remain focused on the story that he was telling but had difficulty. 

It had been a few weeks since Hermione had broken off her engagement to Draco Malfoy. When the news hit the Prophet, she was thankful to have received an invitation from Mr. Scamander to go scavenging. 

In his retirement, he would occasionally assist Ollivander in obtaining different items for wand making. Hermione had joined him a few times but this one could not have come at a more opportune moment. 

“Ms. Granger, I haven’t been sure whether or not to say anything. Tina cautioned me about bringing it up...but I was very sorry to hear about your engagement.” 

Hermione felt her chest tighten. 

“It’s been difficult, but it's nice to get away.” 

He glanced towards her. “Why did the two of you decide to end things?” 

Her and Draco had struggled through months of dealing with his parents' dissension in response to their engagement. In the end, she didn’t want Draco to sacrifice his family, so she’d broken it off despite his objections. 

Mr. Scamander read his own conclusion. 

“I take it that it wasn’t what you wanted.” 

She felt her breath catch. “No, but it was my decision and I’m trying to believe that it was for the best.” 

They continued to walk in silence until Mr. Scamander stopped as they arrived at a clearing. 

“Do you know what we’re gathering today, Ms. Granger?” 

She lightly shook her head; not recalling that he’d told her. Hermione followed his eyes as he looked up into one of the surrounding trees. She noted a large nest assembled in one of them. 

After a moment, her heart swelled at the incoming sound of music. She watched as a beautiful, crimson Phoenix soured above them and landed atop its nest. 

Her eyes diverted when she noticed a few feathers swaying back and forth as they descended to the ground. 

“Phoenix feathers.” 

She looked over at Mr. Scamander who remained fixated on the bird. 

“As you know, the Phoenix is terribly difficult to domesticate. However, I began tracking one recently after I learned that its owner had died.” 

He turned slightly in her direction. 

“I think it might have some applicability to your situation. You see, I know that you believe that your relationship has ended, but who’s to say that it can’t have a rebirth?”

* * *

Hermione stood on the stoop of a luxurious townhome. She took a few deep breaths and mustered the courage to knock. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she waited. When the door opened, her eyes met cool grey. 

“Can I come in?”


	5. Rule 6-28C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Rule 6-28C  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 495  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [HollyBrianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyBrianne/pseuds/HollyBrianne)

2ND PLACE  


“What the hell, Granger?” Draco slapped a piece of parchment onto Hermione’s desk.

Hermione set down her paperwork and quill and eyed Draco’s parchment. The words ‘Partner Reassignment’ were at the top in bold, just below his finger. “It appears we won’t be working together anymore. I’ve got one, too.”

Draco snorted. “Don’t play innocent. I went to Thompson first and he said he’d much prefer us to stay paired, with a record like ours. So if he didn’t arrange this, and I didn’t request it, it isn’t hard to guess who’s responsible.” Draco slid his parchment closer to Hermione to punctuate his point. Her previously neutral expression morphed into guilt, proving his theory. “Who could possibly make a better partner than me?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but the next voice to speak came from behind Draco. “I’m excited to start working with you, Hermione!”

Draco’s mouth dropped open; he recognized that voice. “McLaggen? You’d rather work with _this_ slimy git than with me?”

The slimy git clapped Draco on the shoulder and winked. “No hard feelings, mate.”

Draco narrowed his eyes menacingly, until McLaggen awkwardly removed his hand, then returned his attention to Hermione. “Is this about what happened during the Phoenix case?”

“What happened during the Phoenix case?” McLaggen asked.

“Nothing,” Hermione answered quickly. Her cheeks flushed pink.

“I wouldn’t call it nothing,” Draco said and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Hermione looked down and busied her hands with her paperwork. “I would call it ‘doing our job’. We located and detained the illegal Phoenix breeders and rehomed the birds to a proper Magizoologist. It’s all here in the report.”

Draco grabbed the paperwork and ruffled through the pages. “And did the after-hours activities make it into the report?” 

The colour in Hermione’s cheeks deepened. She snatched the stack of parchment back and cleared her throat. “Can we talk about this later?”

“No, I think your new partner should know what he’s getting into.”

She stared angrily for a minute but Draco refused to budge. She sighed. “Fine. Are you familiar with rule six-dash-twenty-eight-c in the Ministry employee handbook?”

Draco crossed his arms. “I’m certain you can enlighten me.”

McLaggen, who was still at Draco’s side, interjected again. "It forbids a romantic relationship between direct partners.”

“So this _is_ about the Phoenix case,” Draco laughed wryly. “What do you want, an apology? If that means we can stay partners, I’ll do it. Although, I feel obligated to point out that your tongue was also rather enthusiastically involved—”

Hermione cut him off by stepping around her desk into his space. “I don’t want an apology.”

Unconsciously, Draco let his arms fall to his sides. "What do you want, then?"

"Draco,” she said with a coy smile, “the rule forbids a relationship between partners, but since we’ll no longer be partners…"

Dravo smiled in return, finally connecting the dots, and turned to McLaggen to pat him on the back. "No hard feelings, mate."


	6. Phoebe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Phoebe  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [In_Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams)

“Have you slept?” 

Hermione could tell by the dark shadows smudged beneath his eyes he hadn’t. 

But Draco shook his head, dragging a hand along the coarse stubble lining his jaw. His rumpled shirtsleeves were pushed back to the elbows, his tie askew. 

His grey eyes flitted up to meet hers over his steaming mug of coffee and quickly darted away. 

“I tried,” he admitted, gazing at a spot on the floor. “I hate being unable to figure this out.” 

Idly, she wondered what it cost him to bear that small shred of himself. It had taken years for him to begin to open up, though they worked together almost every day. 

“When you’re ready—” she gestured towards his mug “—we’ll go check on the patient.” 

Draco took a deep swig of his scalding coffee; Hermione grimaced on instinct. He dropped his partial cup to the counter. “I’m ready.”

* * *

Watching Draco Malfoy work had surprised Hermione the most, after they had both been offered the prestigious role of Creature Healing Specialist at the Firebird Sanctuary. 

He took pride in his work and was often meticulous to a fault, but she had never seen another magical creature healer as dedicated to their work as she. 

His touch was careful, almost loving, as he shifted the ailing phoenix’s half-moulted wing one way and the other before crouching down to assess the bird’s prone form. 

“Phoebe.” The knit in Draco’s brow caused a lurch in her chest as his lips drew into a frown. Phoebe didn’t move, a small wisp of steam huffed from her beak the only evidence she was still alive. 

Due to the cyclical nature of phoenixes and their long life spans, rarely were they faced with one on the verge of death. And Phoebe had been fine only the week before, soaring high above the trees, her plumage brilliant. 

“It isn’t a rebirth,” she stated; they had both seen hundreds. Hermione forced a swallow as Draco stood upright at her side. “Maybe it’s just her time...” 

She trailed off, feeling a sting at the corners of her eyes. Phoebe was one of their most delightful phoenixes; the bird never failed to make her smile. 

Draco blew out a heavy breath, his stare dulled. “She _has_ had a long life.” 

Hermione bit down hard on her bottom lip, failing to suppress a sniffle. 

Draco’s pinky nudged her own, and before she could wonder whether it was an accident, he tugged her hand into his. She clutched his hand like a lifeline, and they both watched as the frail bird stilled. 

When a stifled sob escaped her lips, Draco drew her into his side, palm grazing her back. She stilled on instinct before melting into his hold, seeking solace in the moment. 

At last her gaze sought his. Something hidden beneath his eyes stirred curiosity within her and a breath caught in her throat. 

“Hermione, I—” 

He was interrupted by a quiet rustle of feathers; one glossy black eye blinked open.


	7. Modus Operandi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Modus Operandi  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [iwasbotwp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasbotwp/pseuds/iwasbotwp)

Draco came barging into her office, without so much as a courtesy knock, his outer robes absent and tie loosened, waving a file.

"I have a possible breakthrough!"

With a few flicks of her wand, the door slammed shut behind him and a series of privacy spells settled over the room. There wasn't any need to define which case had caused him to lose all sense of decorum in his rush to discuss a lead.

"Talk to me." She shuffled aside the project she'd been working on and motioned to the chair across from her.

Ignoring her invitation, he spread out an array of autopsy photos, then remained standing. He'd brought a single photo for each victim of the serial killer they'd been pursuing, all taken from an identical angle.

When someone murdered Adrian Pucey following his parol, Harry had assigned them to the case. At the time, they'd noted a postmortem mutilation. Three months later they'd identified it as a "calling card", after the same thing showed up on Theodore Nott's corpse.

Two years and seven dead Voldemort sympathizers later, they still had little to go upon towards cracking the case, beyond the commonality of a cigarette burn on each victim's back right shoulder.

Draco pointed at the mark in Rookwood's photo. "We've been under the assumption that our perp burned everyone in the exact same spot. But today it occurred to me the marks were slightly askew."

He stacked the pictures atop one another, neatly aligning the edges. Pulling his wand from its holster, he tapped the pile, saying an incantation Hermione didn't recognize. The pictures grew translucent—only the circular black burns starkly showing through.

She gasped. "What's that pattern? Does it create a rune?"

Draco cast another spell. Blue points of light sparkled in the air, parallel with the burns in the photos below them, lines connecting the shining particles.

"It's a constellation. Not quite complete." He waved his wand again. A few more twinkling stars and lines appeared. "There."

Tilting her head, Hermione studied the glowing projection. Try as she might, she couldn't decipher which constellation she was looking at. "Are you positive?"

"Which of us is the expert in Astronomy?" Draco scoffed.

If six years of being his partner, and one of being his girlfriend, had taught her anything, it was to trust him. "Okay, but how come I don't recognize it?"

"How much do you know about southern constellations?"

"I wouldn't have ever—"

"That's what our killer's counting on."

"So which constellation is it?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair, an indecipherable look on his face. "Phoenix."

Unable to formulate a reply, she closed her eyes. The implications overwhelmed Hermione and her mind whirled with possibilities, but only one stuck out. 

"Do you think…" She inhaled shakily, rubbing her temples and internally repeating the mantra, _Now isn't the appropriate time_.

"I do."

Calling upon her Occlumency training, she compartmentalized her emotions before opening her eyes. "It appears we can narrow our suspect list."


	8. How to Make a Phoenix Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: How to Make a Phoenix Fire  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [MykEsprit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit)

4TH PLACE  


_**Ingredients** _

_**2 oz. gin, infused with butterfly pea flower and edible pearl dust** _

_**2⁄3 oz. grapefruit juice** _

_**1⁄2 oz. lime juice** _

_**1⁄2 oz. cinnamon syrup** _

_**Dash of ground cinnamon** _

* * *

_**Instructions** _

_**Step 1: Add alcohol.** _

Patrons jostled at the bar, yelling orders over each other. 

Flitting behind the counter, Hermione expertly poured drinks and slid them down the bartop. “Are you going to just stand there all night?”

Draco cursed under his breath. 

_Show your parents you don’t need them_ , Theo had goaded him one drunken afternoon.

In Diagon Alley, Draco had found a cheap flat above a pub. He had moved in and applied for work the next day. It was the perfect setup. He didn’t have many qualifications, but he knew his Negronis from his Sazeracs. Plus, he liked the short commute.

He just hadn’t realized work would be so much...work. Nor that his colleague would be none other than Hermione Granger, who was now a Healer-in-training paying her through school by slinging drinks behind the bar.

* * *

_**Step 2: Shake vigorously.** _

A blonde leaned over the counter, her lips brushing his earlobe. “Phoenix Fire.” 

Draco tried not to flinch at her touch. He needed the tips.

He filled a shaker with specialty gin—blue and pearlescent—and added ice. Sealing the top with a tap of his palm, he started shaking.

Hermione sidled next to him, eyebrows quirked like how they used to whenever Weasley stammered out an inane answer in class. She held out a hand.

Draco handed the shaker over. 

She demonstrated, brandishing the concoction with equal parts flair and efficiency. He was mesmerized by her quick rhythm, the tightened grip of her fingers, the glazed intensity in her eyes…

She thrust the shaker in his face. “Got it?”

He gulped. Taking the proffered instrument, he mimicked her movements. “Like this?” he asked weakly.

Hermione studied him for an excruciating minute before nodding.

* * *

_**Step 3: Ignite.** _

By midnight, the pub was packed.

Draco was straining blue gin into a coupe glass. He pointed his wand. “Incendio!” Orange-tipped flame danced atop the alcohol.

Patrons cheered. Their mirth teased a smile out of him. A turn of his head brought Hermione into his sight. 

She winked.

* * *

_**Step 4: Add some cleverness.** _

George Weasley grinned at Hermione in a way that made Draco’s palms itch. “I promise not to steal any company magic.”

"It isn’t magic. Just Muggle science," Hermione said. "The gin is infused with butterfly pea flower and edible pearl dust. The dust makes it shimmer, but the flower—its color changes depending on the pH level. Just add some acid…" She poured the juice-and-syrup mix into the flaming drink. The concoction shifted from blue to purple. 

"Muggles are so clever!" Draco blurted.

This earned him a warm smile.

* * *

_**Step 5: Watch sparks fly.** _

"This is my favorite part." Hermione threw a pinch of cinnamon into the fire. It popped and crackled. "They’re like tiny sparklers!” Her face brightened at the spectacle.

Draco decided that this, too, was his favorite part.


	9. Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Glow  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 495  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [MidnightValkyrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightValkyrie/pseuds/MidnightValkyrie)

Hermione was warmed by the way Draco’s hands fluttered along her form as he led her to the nursery.

It’d been a hard pregnancy from the start, but the past month had been the worst. Except for trips to the loo and very little else, she’d been on strict bed rest. The war against boredom had been paramount. The worst battle, however, had been against disappointment. The singular thing she’d been looking forward to in the lead up to the birth of their first child had been putting the nursery together with Draco, which had become impossible.

Draco had assembled the furniture they chose in their bedroom so she could watch, brought her the freshly laundered baby clothes for her to fold, and had done so many other small things to make her feel included in the process. Her heart felt full to watch him put things together the Muggle way just because he knew that’s the way she’d want to do it.

He’d spent the past few days in the nursery itself, overseeing the painting of the mural. Now that everything was done, he was eager for her to see it. So much so that he allowed her to walk down the hall on her own when he hadn’t let her so much as take an unnecessary step in weeks.

Her breath caught when the door swung open. There’d been no need to turn on the light. Along the wall, phoenixes lazily glided too and fro around the room, roosted in trees, and strutted along the landscape. The glow of their feathers was better than any nightlight. She’d just turned to Draco when a low, ethereal melody surrounded them.

Her hands rested on her rounded belly as she stared at him, eyes watering. “Did you do this?”

He swallowed and nodded, brows furrowed in concern of the potential of imminent tears. “Do you...not like it? I can change it, if you wish.”

“No! This is beautiful!” She grasped his hands, twining their fingers together as they walked deeper into the room. “I had no idea you could paint.”

“I usually do it when I can’t sleep or to work through stress. With the lack of either problem in more recent days, it’s sort of fallen by the wayside until now.” He pulled her hands to his mouth to kiss her fingers.

“You should do it more often. This is amazing, Draco," she whispered. Her eyes drifted around the room, taking in the rest of the room and landing lastly on the rocking chair in the corner. On either side were bushes with freshly resurrected phoenix chicks, darting to and fro from beneath their protective branches.

“While I was painting, I was thinking of one of the legends surrounding them. What do you think of Hyperion for a middle name?”

She admired the way the low glow lit up his hair prettily as the name rolled around in her head. “I think it’s fitting.”


	10. From the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: From the Ashes  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [NotAMuggleMiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAMuggleMiss/profile)

It was hard to believe the war might finally be over when the smell of the last battle still permeated the air around them. The strange mixture of blood, sweat and everything burnt clung to their clothing and tents in the makeshift city they had thrown together in the hours after Voldemort’s final defeat. 

Many of them had no other place to go; most places in Wizarding Britain needed rebuilding after nine years of war. Nobody could have guessed that one missed Horcrux would cost them so much. And yet, they had somehow held onto their hopes and prevailed. 

Less than a day later, most of the camp’s occupants were resting, planning for the future. 

Draco was standing at the outskirts of camp. He took several deep breaths of stale air and tried to calm his nerves. His wife’s screams had him hurrying back into their tent, where he found Luna whispering words of encouragement while gently brushing the hair off her face. 

Hermione was naked on her hands and knees on the cot, her skin flushed and covered in perspiration. There was a fierce look of determination on her face. Draco thought she had never looked more dangerous. Or beautiful. 

“Almost time to push, Granger, almost over,” Pansy chimed in.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whimpered. They were nearing twenty-four hours now since her labour had started, before the battle had even ended.

Draco walked to the end of the bed and carefully lifted her upper body until she could wrap her arms around his shoulders and lean her forehead on his chest, her knees still planted on the mattress. She seemed to take comfort in his embrace. 

“It’s time, Parkinson, I know it is. Please!” she nearly growled.

Pansy did a quick diagnostic with her wand and nodded at Draco.

“Alright, love. Whenever you’re ready. I’ve got you,” he told her.

Hermione brought her feet up under her to squat, moving her head to his shoulder. As the next contraction started, a feral shriek left her lips and their baby was born into Pansy’s waiting hands.

Luna rushed forward to help Draco lay a triumphant Hermione back onto a stack of pillows and the newborn was placed onto her bare chest. Pansy aimed a gentle cleansing charm at them both and covered them with a clean blanket. She smiled.

“It’s a girl.”

Draco’s heart swelled with thankfulness for his warrior of a wife. He had never imagined that giving birth could look more terrifying than combat. He certainly hadn’t envisioned his first child being born in the remnants of a literal battlefield. 

But she was here, proof that beautiful things could be born from the ashes, just as her parents had come together in the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts.

“Phoenix,” he whispered.

“Sounds fitting,” Hermione agreed with a tired smile.

As his daughter’s first soft cries reached his ears and tears of joy ran down his face, he knew everything would be alright.


	11. From Spark to Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: From Spark to Flame  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [RoseHarperMaxwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseHarperMaxwell/pseuds/RoseHarperMaxwell)

3RD PLACE  


“‘Soon?’ How can he tell?” They’d come a long way since Buckbeak, but Draco still questioned Hagrid’s judgment.

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t know, but he seemed certain. He said he’d only trust the Head Boy and Girl with it.” She examined the pale blue egg in her cupped palms for signs of imminent hatching. “Phoenix eggs can take years to fully develop.”

"I didn't even know they hatched," Draco said. "I thought they just...were. Out of the ashes, and all that."

Hermione sighed. Her focus was NEWTs, not avian husbandry. This was disruptive to her rigorous study plans. "Let's leave it here and go do some research."

"Whoa, whoa." Draco placed one hand beneath her own and carefully scooped the egg into his much larger palm. His touch was a firm caress she felt after it was gone.

"We're not just _leaving_ this anywhere.” He cradled the egg protectively against his chest. “She's been entrusted to our care."

* * *

For once, Hermione felt like the weaker half on a project. Draco refused to leave the egg unattended. He created a schedule, which she accepted hesitantly. _Hermione_ made schedules.

"This is unnecessary, you know." She smirked as Draco struggled to remove the sling he’d transfigured for egg-wearing. "Phoenix eggs don't require incubation."

"Put it on, Granger. Or I’ll take your shift, if you can't handle it."

Affronted, she slipped on the carrier and allowed Draco to snugly secure the egg. "I didn't say I can't _handle_ it. I said it's unnecessary. There's a difference."

* * *

Weeks of egg-tending passed. Hermione was wide awake one night, wondering if the egg would hatch before graduation, when she heard frantic knocking at her door. It burst open before she could answer.

"Granger, it's happening!" Draco was uncharacteristically rumpled, his pajamas and hair awry. He clambered onto her bed without invitation, holding the soft nest he'd crafted aloft with both hands. "She's hatching!"

"I hope you have a few names picked out.” She’d teased that Phoenix was too on-the-nose for his family’s naming traditions; he’d have to get creative. “Don’t Malfoys always have male firstborns?"

He dragged his gaze from the cracking and lifting eggshell to give her a withering look. "She's a bird, not an heir."

They huddled over the nest in comfortable silence, focused on the new life emerging between them. Though it would be reborn many times, this first glimpse felt like a profound secret only they shared.

Draco plucked away eggshell until the chick was revealed, fluffing as it dried.

"Merlin," he whispered, reverently stroking one downy wing. "Imagine knowing no matter how you go wrong, you'll get to start over fresh."

Hermione swallowed thickly. Australia and what-ifs were never far from her mind.

Draco cleared his throat, misty eyes on the chick. "I'll let you sleep. I just didn't want you to miss this."

He reached for the nest, but she caught his wrist—the one she knew carried his own what-ifs. She lay back against her pillow, tugging gently. "You should stay."


	12. From Ashes, Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: From Ashes, Rise  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 492  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [KasmiAnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasmiAnn/pseuds/KasmiAnn)

Draco felt the immense heat against his face and opened his eyes to see the Malfoy Manor engulfed in flames. They stood behind the gates surrounding the estate and watched as the fire raged through the structure, catching the gardens as it spread quickly across the grounds where he grew up.

He took a deep breath, breathing in the smoke, and coughed as it burned his throat and lungs. He expected to feel remorse after he cast the flames, but he was elated at feeling relief instead. He felt liberated.

The hand in his own squeezed lightly, and he turned to his wife, her wide brown eyes looking at him in concern. “Are you ok?” Hermione asked.

Draco squeezed her hand and nodded his head with a slight smile on his lips. “It had to be done.” He stared out at the Manor as the walls began to cave in under the heat. “From ashes rises the phoenix..”

“..But first, it must burn.” Hermione finished for him.

Over a hundred years of archaic, Pure-blooded prejudice was burning along with the echo of emotional and physical abuse at the hands of the Malfoy men before him. The evil that permeated the walls during and after The Dark Lord took up residence was being cleansed in the fiery blaze, making way for a clean slate, for purified land ready for a new generation.

Torture and death would no longer defile this land.

“My ancestors took this land from the people of Wiltshire, and it’s time to give it back.”

Ashes rained down on them as the fire began to extinguish itself; it’s fiery purpose complete. As the smoke cleared, Draco removed the rolled-up parchment from his pocket and held it out in front of them.

“I was thinking of building the school in the back where the gardens were and turning this front area where the manor stood into the beginner quidditch pitch.” He glanced at her nervously.

Hermione was looking at him with tears in her eyes and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco. Building a school for primary aged witches and wizards is a perfect use for this land.”

Draco bristled at her praise. “It was your idea to start a school, love. Give yourself credit.”

Hermione beamed at him and pulled the land-use plans from his hands.

“What is this back in the trees?” She asked, pointing to the top corner of the parchment.

Draco grinned. “That, dear wife, is where we will live. It only made sense for the headmistress to live on the school grounds.”

Hermione gasped and flipped through the parchments until she found the building plan for the home in question. “Oh, Draco! It’s going to be beautiful!”

Draco glanced through the gate at the smoldering red coals and blackened land and smiled as he envisioned what the future would bring.

“It will be my love. It will be.”


	13. Firestarter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Firestarter  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Misdemeanor1331](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misdemeanor1331/pseuds/Misdemeanor1331)

1ST PLACE   


_We will rise_. 

The posters had appeared overnight in cities around the United Kingdom. Rebellion was hardly unusual. Uprisings had sparked like meteors since Potter’s defeat, but always fizzled out, transient flickers against the tenebrous infinity of the Dark Lord’s reign. 

This felt different. The posters’ simultaneous appearance indicated a thriving, country-spanning underground. Taken alongside the recent circulation of subversive fliers, and there was perhaps good reason for the Dark Lord to worry. 

By mid-morning, the assignment had reached Draco’s desk, accompanied by the instruction to _handle it personally_ or else _resign the comforts attendant with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement position_. 

Find the culprits or suffer the consequences: a threat dulled by overuse. Nevertheless, Draco dispatched the requisite orders. One team to map the posters’ locations, a second to interview known Undesirables. He took the city patrol for himself, stalking London’s streets like a wraith. 

Near midnight, he saw her. A slip of a woman, standing at the rear of an alley before a newly erected poster, muttering a Permanent Sticking Charm. He drew his wand. 

“Stop. Lower your wand and turn around.” 

She obeyed, hands at her sides, face wreathed in shadow. Behind her, an illustrated phoenix flashed scarlet and gold. 

“Step forward. Do not attempt to cast.” 

Draco’s wand-light illuminated her face, and the last seventeen years of his life disappeared as memory took hold.

A stolen moment at war’s end, occupying the brief space between Potter’s death and Voldemort’s regime. A promise of protection if only she would stay quiet and hidden. A child’s dream, he’d realized later. He wouldn’t have been able to protect her, no matter how hard he tried. 

They’d shared one night together—one blissful taste of what he could have had for a touch more courage, a touch less cowardice. Then, she ran. She’d survived the fall from his bedroom window and the sprint through the manor’s gardens. She hadn’t taken anything but her wand. 

Or so he’d thought. 

The curly-haired witch standing before him had eyes that mirrored his own in shape, shade, and glare, and her wand bore the creeping vine pattern he knew all too well. The earth rocked beneath him, sending him spinning off axis. He braced a hand against the alley wall.

“She died.” Draco’s voice cracked. “Two weeks after she ran. I saw the report. I saw the… The photos.” He looked back up at her. Could not look enough. “Where is she? Your mother?” 

The girl scowled. Draco cursed himself. Of course she wouldn’t tell him anything; she’d been raised better. 

He staggered forward, twisting the signet ring off his finger and holding it out to her. 

“Take this,” he said. “Give it to her. Tell her…” 

What to say after a lifetime of mistakes and regret? His eyes flicked to the phoenix. A swell of hope lit within him, a fire banked too long by the weight of his failures. 

No longer. 

He stood tall, met her gaze. 

“Tell her _we will rise_.”


	14. Fire That Burns, Fire That Purifies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fire That Burns, Fire That Purifies  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 466  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [fandomfairytales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfairytales/pseuds/fandomfairytales)

NIK’S POST-PETAL PICK  


Growth was a funny thing really.

It happened quickly, in so many ways Draco scarcely knew who he was anymore. Physically he wasn’t the boy he’d once been, but in his mind, he imagined a frightened child hiding behind his outer shell.

He’d intended to follow orders, he had a duty to his name, his father and the dark lord; but the moment Goyle cast fiendfyre, his world had tipped upside-down and suddenly he was a man fighting for his own redemption.

He’d been saved, and in the midst of smoke and Goyle’s disembodied screams, he noticed someone else had changed too.

She looked like a goddess, washed in the dangerous, orange glow below, her hair whipping behind her as she flew through flames that threatened to lick at her broom and consume them all.

She was triumphant, a true warrior swathed in the power of the ancients, her eyes glimmered like stars in the undulating light and if he’d been in a position to do so, Draco would have bowed to her, worshipping as she rightly deserved

A flare behind her took the appearance of majestic wings spreading behind her as she landed, and Draco was awed at the sight.

She was beautiful, glorious; even in ripped muggle jeans, soot and sweat smeared across her face; he was utterly entranced by her power.

In a single moment, fire and death surrounding him, he was reborn. A phoenix rising from the ashes of his youth to find truth and clarity.

Along with something else: Something pure, untainted, and innately good. His heart pounded frantically as he gawked at her, their surroundings slipping away until only she remained.

There was no stopping the torrent of relieved tears as he realised the significance of his thoughts.

It took years to believe he hated her and a split second to love her with every last fibre of his being; suddenly, he was terrified. 

He might die.

Azkaban and the dementor’s kiss a very real and frightening possibility;

Father would certainly disown him if they all survived…

He could practically see it; his mother would plead and later mourn, but the sting of his father’s rejection would be softened by the knowledge he had made the right choice.

He loved her, in his own irrational way and for all the anticipated hardships, in his soul he knew he would risk it all, give up everything for a second chance to prove himself to her.

One day he might succeed, with hard work and determination, but for now, he was satisfied with the mere thought of a future beyond the battle; a future where the Dark Lord was dead, his supporters brought to justice… A future where those who chose rebirth and redemption could dwell… A future where all was well.


	15. Catch and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Catch and Release  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Kyonomiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyonomiko/pseuds/Kyonomiko)

ADMIN CHOICE  


“Six years in Creatures’ Rights, and I really thought you had some integrity.”

Draco Malfoy looks up, startled, as Hermione barrels into his office, slamming the door behind her. 

“Granger?” He stands, tall and imposing, but Hermione is hardly intimidated. She stomps right into his space and jabs a finger into his sternum.

“You,” she punctuates, clarifying, “are a monster. All these years, working together on protective legislations… I thought you might actually care about the animals your company uses as ingredients. As profits… Was this just a long game you were playing with me? Draw me in, defending your company to the Ministry, so you could pull something as heinous as this?!”

He looks down at her, eyes narrowed with caged agitation, and lays a hand over hers to gently push it away. She snatches hers back, not even wanting their skin to touch. “I do not appreciate,” he says, tone chilled, “you invading my office with vague accusations. What is it I’m supposed to have done?”

She laughs, a hollow and disbelieving sound. “Firebird, Draco. Did you think no one would notice? You have half your potions gatherers dispatched the world over, and your entire wand core team.” His eyes widen, and Hermione can see he’s surprised that she knows.

Stepping back, she shakes her head, dangerously close to tears. “There’s only one, in the whole world. Do you understand? You can’t just… chop it up for feathers and claws. Don’t you have enough money? Prestige? Or did you need a legacy beyond your grotesque wealth and breeding? You’ll certainly never be forgotten for this.”

Turning to leave, she tears her eyes away from the piercing grey depths of his gaze. 

How many nights, disguised with professional purpose, was she captured by the endless frozen landscapes of those eyes? Countless glasses of wine and any poorly veiled excuse to graze his hand atop a table, to trade banter, she’s been a slave to this wizard that she thought she knew so well.

She’s to the door before he speaks.

“The Phoenix wasn’t harmed.”

She spins around, mouth gaped. “You found it?”

He nods, stepping in front of his desk. “Found. Ingredient procured. Released. The Firebird Department at Malfoy Industries is disbanded.”

“Got what you needed then?” She sneers, not understanding why he released the bird, but still sure greed motivated the hunt.

From the desk behind him, Draco retrieves a small vial, considering it. “The lab delivered it last night. Phoenix tears, Memory Potion, and a dash of Felix Felicis.” He eyes it one last moment, then steps forward and lays it in her hand. 

When she looks up, he explains softly, “So your parents can remember you. Fawkes wept freely.”

Hermione is stunned, floundering. She finally admits, “The Ministry flagged you.”

“I know,” he says.

“I buried the report,” she reveals next, adding in a whisper, “Draco, you could’ve lost everything.”

He reaches forward, gently cupping her cheek, and smiles. “Not everything. Not if you’re still here.”


	16. Burning Day [1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Burning Day  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [LumosLyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra)

Hermione didn’t even particularly like birds. But on an expedition to a secluded sector of the Andes as part of her Mastery, she’d quite literally stumbled across the birth of a phoenix. With gentle nudges, she’d attempted to shoo the little thing back to it’s nest, which had been knocked from the top of a towering Chilean Wine Palm, but it had been stalwart in it’s determination that it belonged with her. It hopped and chirped and made a complete nuisance of itself until she picked it up so it could comfortably nestle within her curls. 

Draco teased her relentlessly about her new familiar making a literal birdsnest of her hair, but Petrus took a sizable chunk out of the blond’s finger when he was being just a bit too smug and waving the digit about.

Unfortunately for her, Petrus had taken a liking to the Malfoy heir after that initial nip. 

It frustrated Hermione to no end that her wayward bird would disappear and she would have to trek all the way from her cozy fifth floor tower suite to the dungeons to find him perched atop Draco’s shoulder as the newest Hogwarts Potion Master brewed. 

“I’ll take my bird back, thank you very much.” 

“He’s close to his first burning day. Might be best to leave him be.” Draco’s eyes flicked toward where the bird’s normally brilliant plumage had begun to dull and wilt. 

“That’s precisely why I’d prefer to have him safely away from here. If Petrus burns at the wrong time, your entire lab might go up in flames.” Hermione worried her lip between her teeth and fidgeted with the pointed sleeve of her aubergine teaching robes, twisting a loose thread between her fingers.

Draco set a Stasis charm over the bench of cauldrons, a silvery scar on his finger flashing with each flick of his wand. “You don’t have to be worried, Granger. Phoenixes burn all of the time.” 

“I _know_ that,” she groaned. “But it’s his first time and—”

“—You’d rather he be with you.” The corners of Draco’s mouth rose in a gentle smile as he coaxed Petrus off of his shoulder and onto his forearm with a click of his tongue. 

“I’m being silly, aren’t I?” Her arm extended and her hand slipped into Draco’s, the warmth of his palm soothing some of her worry as the still small phoenix moved from wizard to witch. 

He smirked. “The day you’re _not_ worried about something as common as a phoenix’s burning day is the day I’ll check you for the Imperius.” 

“You’re incorrigible.” 

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” he grinned, tugging her forward and folding his arms around her when she landed against his chest. 

Hermione smiled, tucking her head against his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean you’re not a nuisance.” 

Draco snorted a laugh. “Go take your bloody bird back to our suite.”

“If you keep up this cheek, you’ll need that burn paste you’re brewing.” 

“Get out of my lab, Granger.”


	17. Burning Day [2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Burning Day [2]  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 500  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [granger_danger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/granger_danger/pseuds/granger_danger)

5TH PLACE  


“It’s a surprise.” Granger shot Draco a toothy grin, which lent no comfort. He almost regretted shutting his potions shop early to meet her.

Almost.

Draco wrinkled his nose. “I hate surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.” She tugged his hand and his stomach seized. “Come now, don’t be a baby.” 

Before Draco could properly prepare himself, she’d grasped a chipped teacup. 

“Oh no,” he said, grimacing. The sudden sensation of a hook behind his navel did nothing to alleviate his Granger-derived dyspepsia. 

When they were on solid ground again, Draco muttered about the indignities of Ministry-budget International Portkeys while he endeavored not to eject his lunch over the stony ground. 

“Where are we?” He shivered a bit and Hermione passed him a jar of bluebell flames, surprisingly satisfying to hold. 

They stood upon a jagged peak packed with dense snow. Before them, the dusky horizon revealed mountains beyond mountains. 

“The Himalayas.” At his arched brow, she grinned wickedly again. “Worthwhile, I promise. Here, I’ll heat your cloak.” Hermione stepped close and flourished her wand; warmth, not entirely spell-related, washed over him. 

After he’d begrudgingly allowed her to transfigure his designer wingtips into practical boots, she found his hand again, pulling him towards the summit. 

Draco’s mouth fell open.

Just ahead, a resplendently feathered phoenix tilted his beak. Ruffling his glorious red-orange plumage, the bird gave his long golden tail a graceful shake. 

“Eughh.” A second bird gagged. Rather bedraggled and standing in contrast to her partner, this phoenix bore a striking resemblance to a partially plucked turkey.

“The best way to collect phoenix tears is from a mated pair on one’s Burning Day.” With a self-satisfied smile, Hermione produced several empty vials from her ridiculous enchanted bag. “They mate for life, you know.” 

“Do they now.” Very interesting, the way her bemittened hand still clutched his, how she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, that the tinge of her cheeks said _blushing_ more than _windburnt._ “My being here won’t bollocks it up?”

“No.” Her cheeks pinkened even more. “They can tell I like you. Oh, look!”

The disheveled bird burst into brilliant red flames. Her mate began to sing a lament, beautifully haunting and hypnotic. Hermione crept towards the bird and inclined her head. The phoenix seemed to nod, allowing Hermione to collect his tears.

She returned to Draco’s side and furnished the tears as the phoenix continued its plaintive, heart-stirring tune. 

“Granger.” He twirled the pearlescent vial, impossibly rare, eying it with wonder. Something caught in his throat. “This is for me?” 

“Well.” She shuffled, contemplating her knit mittens. “Some _really_ should go to a capable potions master, and—”

Supposedly, phoenix song made the pure of heart brave; Draco had heard the standard-issue nonsense. But as the cramp in his stomach converted itself into a conviction—he refused to call it courage—he concluded rather boldly that this was as good a time as any to finally kiss her. 

Behind them, a tiny chick emerged from the ashes. 

Something new was born.


	18. 1977

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: 1977  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 442  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Tridogmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridogmom/pseuds/Tridogmom)

“Granger!” Draco yelled from his home office. 

He was going through his monthly ledgers from their goblin and was shocked to see his wife, who preferred to save every knut, had spent almost eighty thousand pounds at a place called _American Classics_. A little note from the goblin showed the conversion rate into Galleons—because Merlin knew Draco could never remember. 

Sixteen thousand! 

“Granger! Get your arse in here!” Not waiting for his wife he picked up the ledger and made his way towards her office. 

“What are you yelling about?” Hermione asked, sticking her head out of the door. 

“Care to explain what you bought?” 

He shoved the book under her nose. It wasn’t the money, they had more than they could spend. But normally she discussed anything she purchased over twenty Galleons with him.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Follow me.”

Draco followed Hermione out of the Manor and towards the large garage they had built to house her Muggle car and their matching motorbikes. It was the only thing besides books she splurged on. Hermione Granger-Malfoy, his swot who was afraid of brooms, had a weakness for the feel of a rumbling motor between her thighs and the way her tyres gripped the road like James Bond as she drove her classic Aston Martin along the coastal routes.

It was all Henry Granger’s fault for letting his daughter watch ‘films meant for men’ according to Lucius. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Granger said, running her finger along the side of a shiny black car that was missing half its roof and had a large gold bird painted on the bonnet.

“What is it?” Draco asked. “And why is the steering wheel on the wrong side?”

“It’s a 1977 Y82 Pontiac Firebird T-Top. I’ve wanted one since I was five. It’s American. Same model as the one in _Smokey and the Bandit_. Dad’s going to be so jealous. It’s his favourite film. Get in.”

Draco got into the car, feeling off-kilter by sitting on the driver’s side but being a passenger. Hermione waved her wand and the garage door opened. As she turned on the engine, Draco’s eyes screwed up in pain at how loud it was. Without warning, he was thrown back into the seat as she slammed her foot down on the pedal, tyres screaming in protest. 

He faintly heard her peels of glee over the roar of the engine and the wind whipping past them as she found the open road. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but think that with her smile and her wild hair tumbling in the wind, he was the luckiest bastard on the planet.

**Author's Note:**

> **REMINDER: For this challenge, no entry was allowed to mention The Order of the Phoenix.**


End file.
